


HSWC 2014: br1 fills

by Mags



Series: HSWC 2014 [1]
Category: Homestuck, X-Men (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Short Fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1725554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mags/pseuds/Mags
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlets written for HSWC 2014; various pairings, AUs, and a crossover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jade<3Feferi

**Author's Note:**

> Figured I'd post these somewhere so they don't just disappear. Each of these was written for a separate prompt and ship; none of them are connected at all.
> 
> http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/18819.html?thread=3255939#cmt3255939
> 
> Prompt: "Remember that time when Feferi washed up on the shores of Jade's island?"

“Well _this_ is something new,” someone says.

Footsteps crunch in the sand, accompanied by tuneless humming.

Feeling dessicated and gritty, you manage to open your eyes. The sky above is cloudless, dark with a bit of orange sunrise spreading in from the east.

A long-haired, bespectacled human enters your field of view. “Never seen a sea creature like you,” she says placidly, like she’s not expecting an answer. “I wonder where you came from…”

There’s a crackle like arcing electricity quickly followed by loud barking. “Hey, stop it, Bec!” the human says sharply.

You manage to roll onto your front and see the human holding a large, white-furred creature. You would swim away right now, if you could, but for now you settle for baring your teeth at ‘Bec’.

“Bad boy,” the human says to Bec, who finally stops barking. It lays down and you _swear_ it’s glaring at you.

The human looks down at Bec and then comes a little closer to you. She sucks in a breath through her teeth. “Oof. That’s probably not how that leg’s supposed to bend. No wonder you’re up on the beach. How’d that happen, huh?” Again, she isn’t raising her voice--you can barely hear her over the surf.

You roll back over onto your back. Trying to speak nets you a coughing fit, but eventually you get out, “Storm.”

She stops, staring at you with wide green eyes. “What did you say?”

“Storm last night,” you say again. You were swimming too close to the shore when the waves really kicked up. You should have gone deeper, but you hadn’t felt the storm coming in from across the island. Now you’ve got a broken leg and you’re stranded who _knows_ where and Meenah and the rest don’t know where you are--

A jolt of exhausted, waterlogged terror flashes through you. They must think you dead, after a storm like that one. And now you’ve gone and shown yourself to a _human_. 

You look back up at the human. Her expression slowly changes from surprise to excitement. “You’re right, there _was_ quite the storm last night!” She just stands there for a moment, her grin spreading wide. “Hi! I’m Jade! What’s your name?”

“Feferi.”

“Hi, Feferi!” She says it wrong but you find that you don’t really mind when she says it so warmly. “So, um--are you hurt? I mean, aside from your leg.” 

You shake your head. “Just thirsty. Tired.”

“Alright,” Jade says. “My house is just a little ways that way--” she points over her shoulder toward a bunch of trees “--and I think with the internet I could splint your leg better than just leaving it on its own--I mean, I had to when I broke my arm a few years ago--”

A chance to _not_ be lamed for life? A spark of hope flutters in your chest. You might just make it out of this alive, if Jade can do what she says.

“--but, I mean, only if you’re okay with it.” You realize you missed the middle chunk of what Jade was saying. “So, do you want to come with me?”

“Yes,” you say, with more conviction than you feel.

“Great! Now, I don’t think you can walk right now--” All of a sudden, Jade scoops you up, somehow managing not to jolt your leg. “Oof, you’re heavier than you look,” she says, setting out across the sand.

“I was just thinking you are stronger than you look,” you say into her ear.

She laughs, bright and sweet. “I think we are going to get along great, Feferi.”


	2. Dave<>Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/18819.html?thread=3299971#cmt3299971
> 
> Prompt: "Remember when Karkat taught Dave how to give proper paps and he got SO GOOD that they'd end up sitting together in papping sessions for hours, for no reason at all, much to Karkat's flustering?"

“STRIDER YOU PUT THAT HAND DOWN THIS INSTANT--Not on _me_ , you underripe earth-monkey--actually, you aren’t half-bad at this…” Karkat’s voice drops to a simmering murmur as you pap him a third time. You can’t tell what he’s saying over the movie (some incomprehensible Alternian murder mystery) so you ease up on the papping.

He seems to rouse himself a little, blinking up at you from where he slumped against your side. “I was going to say that I regretted ever teaching you that, but I really don’t,” he says, downright quiet for once. _Note to self: papping makes Karkat non-shouty. Deploy when necessary._

You pap him absentmindedly a few times more, trying to figure out the third quadrant vaccilation twist between the leading detectives. After half the words in their dialogue pass over your head you give up and decide to wait for more explosions, and look down at Karkat.

Wow. He is _really_ relaxed. His murmuring has eased down into snoring--or maybe purring? It’s hard to tell with him sometimes.

You turn down the volume on the movie and Karkat slumps from your side to sprawled across your lap, head buried in the pile of blankets you’ve been leaning against. As you make sure he doesn’t suffocate in the pile, he rolls over, belly up like a big, dense cat.

(You’ve never had a cat, although there was one that lived somewhere around your apartment that you’d see occasionally. You actually petted it once or twice before you realized you were allergic.)

Karkat makes a little “mrrr” noise and you realize that you’ve stopped papping him. When you resume he shifts again, pinching your leg, and you have to wiggle around until your leg stops going all pins-and-needles.

“Yeah, yeah, gimme a second,” you mutter. Pressed into the couch and under Karkat, you’re actually pretty comfortable. The movie is quiet, the lights are low…

When you wake up the movie has finished and Karkat is beginning to stir. He yawns, blinks a few times, and looks around. Then, a few seconds later, he sits bolt upright, flushing, and gives a little strangled “Eep!”

“Oh my fucking god--” he starts, but he can’t get anything else out after that--he just opens and closes his mouth a few times. “You were papping me--and I _fell asleep_ \--and--” He springs up, inadvertently elbowing you in the crotch. Both of you sputter a little and then he just ups and _runs_ off.

“You’re welcome!” you yell after him once you catch your breath.


	3. Jade<3/<3<Vriska

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/18819.html?thread=3254659#cmt3254659
> 
> Prompt: "Remember that time Vriska stole Jade's shuttle right out from under her nose when she was planetside doing _very important research_?"

You’re so busy cataloguing the species you’d sampled that you don’t see the rock right in your path. You stumble, sending your cart floating a few yards on its repulsors, and when you look up you realize there’s something missing.

You know you can be a little unobservant for an exobotanist, but you _definitely_ did not forget where you put your ship.

Leaving the cart floating in the blue-green grass, you hurry down into the little field you left your shuttle. There’s a hoverbike dumped haphazardly near the indentation of your ship, still running.

You put a hand to the ground. It’s still warm from takeoff. You’re starting to have a very bad feeling about this when you approach the bike and see a note in very familiar handwriting.

_Hey Harley! I’m gonna 8orrow your ship for a while. Good luck finding a ride! -V_

“Fuck,” you observe. The _nerve_ of her. You feel like you’ve blown a fuse, standing there on a planet with no transportation and time-sensitive samples thanks to Vriska fucking Serket.

There’s a low hum and a trio of Sector Police on hoverbikes crest the hill, stopping in a loose circle around you. You spend the next half hour explaining that yes, I’m a licensed exobotanist, yes, she took my ship, yes, I know her, no I didn’t _give_ it to her, do you think I would voluntarily strand myself on this hunk of rock? I didn’t think so.

You fuss over your samples, knowing that half of them would be ruined by the time the SPs’ reserve ship got there. (Vriska apparently crashed hers into it. Somehow you’re not surprised.)

A few weeks later you’re still trying to make up for the delay, when the door to your lab slides open, and didn’t you say you didn’t want to be disturbed?

Vriska drapes herself over your back, sticking her pointy, _cold_ little nose behind your ear, making you jump a little.

“You’re contaminating the DNA,” you complain, remembering to be upset.

“Put the pipette down and live a little,” she complains right back.

“I can’t, because, hmm, oh yeah--you _stole my ship_ and left me on a moon. Do you know how long it took me to get those samples?”

“Does that mean we’re not having sex tonight?” she nearly whines.

You turn around, nearly dumping her on the floor when she no longer has something to lean against. “Sex? _Really?_ ” You let your eyebrows raise into your bangs. “I need to get this done by yesterday, and all you’re thinking about is _sex_. Out! Get out of my lab!”


	4. Karkat<>Vriska

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/18819.html?thread=3293315#cmt3293315
> 
> Prompt: "Remember when Karkat still wouldn't go to sleep even after Vriska volunteered to keep watch for him?"

“It’s getting near dawn,” you announce. “We should make camp. Find a cave, would you?”

A dozen feet ahead of you, Vriska stops climbing up the rocky slope. “Fiiiiiiiinally,” she says, drawing the word out into a treatise on How Tired She Is.

You sink to your feet, more tired than you let on, as Vriska ambles around. (With her long legs she has a much easier time of it than you do, that’s for sure.) The slope is riddled with caves but you haven’t seen many that are long enough to provide good protection from the sun.

“Hey, 8ossynu8s! I found a good one!” Vriska calls. 

As you lever yourself on your feet, you grumble, “Bossynubs. That’s new.” The cave she’s picked is long and mostly flat, curving a little toward the back. It’s a good choice--there’s a bit of cover in the back and it should keep the sun out.

You busy yourself setting up the suncloth tent in the back and rolling out daybags. You haven’t been able to sleep without a recuperacoon, but you’ll at least make the effort.

Vriska fiddles with the radio, sticking the antenna out the mouth of the cave. After a few minutes of quiet listening she puts the headset down and swears quietly. “There’s at least three Imperial squads near here,” she says. “They’ve pushed in pretty far.”

“And it’ll take Aradia and Sollux at least a few days to get a counterattack together,” you finish grouchily. “Did you tell them where we are?”

Vriska shakes her head. “I don’t want to give away our position. I can radio in right before we leave tomorrow.”

“Do that,” you say, pulling up your shirt enough to start pulling dirt away from the cut along your side. You try to just touch the dirt, but every time your claws brush across the scab you hiss a little.

Vriska scoots closer to you, pulling out the first-aid kit. “You’re doing it all wrong,” she says, knocking your hands away.

You bite your lip as she finishes cleaning the cut and bandages it up. She’s not half bad at it, actually.

“I’ll take watch,” you say. It’s already getting light outside, though most of the sun is on the hills further away.

“Oh hell no,” she says. “You’ve taken watch for the last three nights. You get in that tent and get some sleep.”

You raise one eyebrow, too tired to really get a good argument on.

“I don’t see what you’re worried a8out. I’m gr8 at watch!”

“Vriska, you’re missing an eye,” you observe.

“Pff, that doesn’t matter!” She continues to stare you down, an obnoxiously chipper grin on her face.

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll take over at noon.”

“Sure, boss,” she says with a victorious laugh.

You worm your way into the daybag but even then you can’t find your way into sleep. There’s just too much to think about--how you’ll get supplies, what if you run into any Imperials, whether or not you can even make it out of these hills alive. It all swirls together after awhile into a big snarl of anxious thoughts.

Some time later, you look up to see Vriska looking down at you, her one eye soft and a small, warm smile on her face.


	5. Aradia&Kanaya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/18819.html?thread=3462531#cmt3462531
> 
> Prompt: "Remember when Aradia told Kanaya that she's never really brushed her hair, and Kanaya set aside a few hellish hours to rectify this."

“I’ve never had long hair,” you say. “My lusus always kept it pretty short. I think she was worried about me getting it caught in my chainsaw, actually.”

“Really? Mine never really cared. It’s been _sweeps_ since I cut it,” Aradia says, fiddling with a strand that trails down by her ear. “Though I don’t know how much it grew when I was a ghost, so it could be less.”

“How do you keep it manageable?” You’ve seen Feferi spend hours dealing with her mane, and Aradia’s is a bit longer, but you’ve never seen Aradia dealing with that. Frankly, her hair looked quite snarled right now, staying in a big, frizzy clump on her back. 

“Well, I don’t actually brush it…” Aradia admitted. “Ever, really.”

“What?” This… this was a _travesty_ , a disaster of such immense proportions that you _have_ to do something about it. “We are going to deal with that right now, then,” you say firmly.

Aradia’s too surprised to answer, but you press on. “We need brushes and whatever hair products you can borrow from Feferi or Vriska.” You roll your sleeves up to the elbows. “I am going to get your hair untangled if it’s the last thing I do.”

*

“Can you feel this?” you ask, tugging on the end of Aradia’s hair.

“Nope.” She’s sitting on a tall chair, with you on the ground, so that the ends of her hair fall right into your lap.

It’s becoming more and more obvious just _how_ tangled her hair is--it’s more like one huge snarl at this point than individual hairs. So you start at the ends, teasing the tangles out one-by-one with the aid of various floral-smelling sprays borrowed from Feferi. Aradia winces a lot and occasionally complains as you oh-so-slowly make your way up her hair. 

“Is this your pen?” you ask, pulling it out of her hair and handing it to her.

“Oh yeah! I wondered where that went!” she says brightly, captchaloguing it.

By the time you’ve found three earrings, a very dessicated piece of food, and one of Tavros’ fiduspawn cards buried in Aradia’s hair you’ve gathered a bit of an audience. Feferi is giving you a hand, but as you get further and further along it gets harder to work the tangles out.

Your brush snags something more solid than hair and a fork, two toothbrushes, a grubdrive, a pair of sunglasses, a congealed clump of candy corn, and a compact husktop fall into your lap in one big tumble. (There is a smattering of laughter from your audience.)

“What did you do?” Aradia asks, craning her head to look at you. “My hair’s a lot lighter.”

After that, Aradia’s hair is a lot easier to manage, thank goodness.


	6. Aradia<>Sollux<3Feferi<>Eridan<3<Sollux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/18819.html?thread=4199043#cmt4199043
> 
> Prompt: "Remember when Aradia, Sollux, Feferi, and Eridan were mutants and students at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters? And remember, while certain people got along very well, others did not?"
> 
> I’d call this a crossover lite. My recollection of the three X-Men movies I’ve seen is a little patchy now so I kept everybody but the homestuck characters out of focus. Hopefully it’s still enjoyable.

Feferi bobbed up and down in the pool, bouncing off the bottom enough to keep her head above water. “Come _on_ , Sollux, get in the pool!”

Sollux didn’t even glance at her; his attention was focused on the rubik's cube levitating a few inches above his palm. He frowned, scrunching his nose up, and the whole cube spun a few times before stopping. “Can’t. I’m supposed to be practicing.”

Eridan surfaced, coughing up a little water before his gills closed up. “You know he’ll never get in. The water is _my_ domain.” He puffed himself up a little at that. “Just ignore him.”

Feferi sighed and pulled her goggles on. “Alright. Race you to the other side?”

Eridan grinned, shark-like teeth gleaming. “You’re on,” he said, nictitating membranes sliding down over his eyes.

Aradia looked up from her history textbook. She was their go-to referee for races, which often came very close. “Ready, set… go!”

The two took off in a flurry of splashing limbs. It was a close match--Eridan’s mutation gave him the physical advantage, but Feferi had far more experience swimming than he did. 

Aradia peered over the edge and when the two popped up, Feferi gasping and Eridan coughing (he really did need to work on that), she said, “Sorry, Eridan, but Feferi beat you by a hair.”

Eridan gnashed his teeth. On him, it was pretty impressive. “Best two out of three,” he said.

Feferi laughed, the sound echoing loud in the pool room, and swam over to the wall to get started. 

As Aradia refereed for them, Sollux finally managed to twist one of the sides of the rubik’s cube separate from the rest. He let out a victorious whoop and dropped the toy. “Say hello to your new telekinetic overlord!” he crowed.

Feferi broke the surface, disregarding the race entirely. (Eridan touched the other wall a few seconds later and celebrated his victory before looking back to Feferi.) “Hey! Since you did your homework you should come swim in the pool with us!”

Sollux made a little exasperated noise in the back of his throat and rolled his mismatched eyes.

“Here, I’ll get in the pool too,” Aradia said, gathering up her homework. “I’m pretty sure I won’t be getting any more work done anyway.”

“Fine,” Sollux sighed.

The two returned shortly in swimsuits; Aradia hopped in immediately while Sollux stood, shivering, with the water only up to his ankles. Feferi rewarded him with a kiss and tugged his hand to move further into the water.

While Aradia started building her throne of pool noodles Eridan approached Sollux, who was gradually making his way onto the second step, and splashed him.

Gaping with indignation and absolutely soaked, Sollux quickly gathered himself and retaliated with an even bigger wave, pushing some of the water telekinetically.

The pool soon devolved into a splashing, laughing quartet of mutants.

*

Eridan’s parents could overlook his second set of eyelids, and his too-sharp permanent teeth, but when his sore throat turned into inflamed patches on the sides of his throat and then into two pairs of gill slits it was too much for them.

He knew he wasn’t wanted any more. Before, he’d been allowed to shadow his father in the social functions of the wealthy elite, but now there was always some excuse to keep him from attending; before, his mother at least pretended to pay attention to happenings in his life over dinner, but now she ignored him unless he actively made his presence known.

It didn’t take long for his resentment to flower and fruit a daring plan--run away from home. He’d heard the word _mutant_ whispered by his parents when they thought he wasn’t listening, and from TV he gathered there were other people who were different out there.

He put a change of clothing, his pocket change, a week’s supply of hair gel, and a sandwich in a bag and snuck out of his window one night and caught a bus into the city. The first night he was too excited to sleep and ended up drifting through the streets, too young to go into any of the nightclubs, his scarf covering up his gills and the dim light hiding the rest.

That day he managed to spend half of his money on a shower at the marina and food. He slept (well, tried to sleep) on a park bench, somehow both bored and stressed out. He was debating whether to return home in disgrace when he heard a voice in his head that wasn’t his own and a short, bald man in a wheelchair waved cheerily at him.

*

Unlike her younger sister (who seemed to catch a cold as soon as anyone so much as sneezed), Feferi had never been sick in her life. She hadn’t broken a bone, and she couldn’t really remember ever getting any bad cuts or scrapes. It wasn’t that uncommon in her comfortable suburban home, so it never really crossed her radar. 

It became a lot more relevant when she and her family were T-boned coming home from swim. The other car hit on Feferi’s side, leaving the car a crumpled wreck. The paramedics were surprised to find her still breathing, and even more surprised as some of her smaller cuts healed on the ride to the hospital. 

Most of her broken bones had healed by the next morning and she was right as rain that afternoon. She fell asleep holding her sister’s hand and woke up to find her sister’s wounds apparently weeks along in healing.

It was at this point that nurses started having whispered conversations in the far corner of the room and doctors started keeping an eye on her. One doctor humored her request to have her parents in the same room; she grimly took each of their hands. 

After a few hours of that she felt unduly exhausted. She still had sharp ears, though, and caught a few words of conversation from the hall-- _mutant_ and _military_ and _quarantine observation_. 

They stopped talking abruptly at the sound of wheels rolling down the hallway, though the conversation soon started up again with a third participant.

*

Sollux was always pretty reticent about his life before attending Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. He was a skinny little thing when he showed up, accustomed to eating anything that came packaged in plastic wrap. He’d never used a stove or oven, but he was a master at the microwave. He seemed genuinely surprised that vegetables actually grew _in the dirt_ \--doesn’t that make them dirty?

He had plenty of self-deprecating anecdotes but never really mentioned any fond memories. He never spoke of siblings, or parents, or even friends--it was always “this one guy”. He could laugh along with everyone else, but it was a rusty, disused sort of laugh.

He didn’t have any keepsakes--not even any clothes from home. He had a clunky old computer and a stack of books on programming to decorate his desk, but that was it. A flyer advertising the school was pinned up above his headboard, creased and well-worn and stained with coffee in the corner, but that was it.

*

It all started when Aradia’s hand brushed against her grandfather’s.

Her grandfather was dead and about to be buried, so the fact that she distinctly heard his voice say “Hello?” must have been her hearing things. But, on impulse, she touched it again.

“Yes?”

It was definitely her grandfather. She looked around but no-one else was reacting and he certainly hadn’t moved, so she just thought her response. _Grandpa?_

“Aradia? Is that you, my dear? What’s all the fuss about?”

_You’re dead_ , she thought.

“Huh, so I am.”

_It was a heart attack_ , she added helpfully.

“Guess I shouldn’t have eaten all those hamburgers, then.” He laughed in that familiar, dry way of his. Aradia couldn’t help but smile, just a bit.

_Hey Grandpa? What was it like? Dying, I mean._

“Just like falling asleep, my dear…” His voice trailed off into silence.

_Grandpa?_ she thought, but he didn’t say anything else.

After a bit longer, she pulled her finger away. She was absorbed in thought throughout the whole funeral; she was pretty sure that wasn’t a thing people just _did_. It meant that there was something different about her.

She never had a chance to talk to a corpse again, but as she grew older she began to have… _feelings_ about things people really shouldn’t do.

One morning before work she told her mother to not take the freeway; her mother was somewhat of a mystic and inclined to take an alternate route when her child said it with piercing eye contact and firm conviction. There was a huge car crash on the freeway half an hour later, when her mother would have been on the freeway.

After that, word got around and people took Aradia’s advice to heart. Sometimes it was simple things like “See the movie Sunday rather than Saturday” or “Bring pepper spray with you,” but more often it was seemingly random advice like “Red is not your color, try the green shirt” or “Give Andrew a call at eight tonight” or “Your keys will be in your left pocket.”

So when Charles Xavier wheeled up to her after school and she said, “You really ought to sit on this side of the hallway,” he did so.

A second later, he laughed. “You’re just messing with me,” he said good-naturedly.

Aradia smiled, a little surprised to be caught in the act. “How did you know?”


End file.
